Though no halo hovers above your hair, Your faults are not the kind that aggrieves me, For saints could make glaring the sins I bear, Maybe, make me appear a devil be; If touched with much cherished heavenly loveSuch as obtained under angelic wings, Might my reply be deemed low from above, And hurt, if not despair, to me it brings; But dare I tread where angels love to tread, As fools, so wizened up, are fools no more, Sensing that Heaven's gate lies just ahead, Hell can become a boarded up closed door; ......We may merit to have halos someday, ......Eternity is not that far away.